


Today Was Not Dean's Day

by dudewheresthepie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, Dean Loves Pie, Denial, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk Sam, F/M, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic John, Human Castiel, Injured Castiel, M/M, Masturbation, My First Fanfic, Phone Sex, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot, Promiscuous Sam, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, accidental use of british words, dean/cas - Freeform, moody sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewheresthepie/pseuds/dudewheresthepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester was definitely, completely straight. Until, that is, he meets a certain blue-eyed someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever attempt at fanfic, just thought I would jump on the SPN fic bandwagon! :)  
> please kudos or comment, i will probably extend this into a multi-chapter story, just for me, because why not haha! :)  
> cheers x

Today was not Dean's day. So far, he had smacked his head on the stupid light shade that Sam had insisted they buy, even though Dean thought it would be better suited in a dumpster. He had spilt coffee on his lap, nicked himself too many times whilst shaving this morning, forgotten to take lunch to work with him, and now, he was hitting every single red light on the way home.

His stomach was rumbling constantly, so after two more reds, he turned onto a smaller street and pulled up in front of a McDonalds. Granted, McDonalds wasn't his favourite type of fast food, but he hadn't eaten since the morning and the takeaway was right there. He grabbed his wallet from the glove compartment and headed inside.

Only a couple of other people were in there, so he placed his order and was leaving a few minutes later. He climbed back into the Impala, turned on his music and tucked into his food. As he was opening the box containing his second burger, another car pulled up next to his. He heard one of the doors open and slam shut, and being the little car geek he was, he looked up to see what car it was.

As soon as his eyes were lifted, he noticed the person sat in the passenger seat of the car, staring back at him with sharp blue eyes. Dean tried to play off the awkward eye contact, acting as though he was just casually staring into space. He cleared his throat and turned back to face his steering wheel, dumped the remnants of the food onto the passenger seat and put the Chevy into reverse. As he rolled out of the parking space he saw that the other person was still gazing over at him, and all Dean could think was about how his mother told him it was rude to stare. Didn't they know this too?

* * *

Later that night, after Dean had returned to the motel room, he found a hastily scribbled note from Sam on the table:

 

 

_GONE WITH CHICK FROM RECEPTION, BACK TOMORROW... PROBABLY ;)_

_SAM_

Dean chuckled, then sighed. His little brother certainly had got more promiscuous lately, and Dean was proud of him, but not when Sam brings a girl back to their motel room. That gets old fast. So Dean was relieved that Sammy had gone elsewhere to get it on.

Dean went over to the beds, tested the pillows and mattresses, and after discovering one had a bust spring in the middle, choosing the other bed on the right nearest the window. With a smug little smirk on his face, he sat down on his bed, kicked off his boots and flung his jeans to the floor, leaving him in just his black t-shirt and boxers. Dean switched on the TV that was stood near the end of his bed, and flicked through the channels until he found something he liked to watch. _Casa Erotica 2_.

About five minutes into the show, Dean felt his cock beginning to twitch under the fabric of his underwear. Focused on the screen, he placed his hot hand over the growing bulge and slowly palmed his dick. Sliding his hand under the waistband, he wrapped his hand around his length, shutting his eyes, letting himself get lost in the sounds of the porn, and feel of his own firm grip. His imagination began to take over behind his closed lids, and soon he was jacking himself off to an image of a blue eyed guy going down on him.

Dean stopped. He sat up, trying to shake the image from his mind. He was not gay! Definitely not gay, come on, he had slept with more women than he had eaten hot meals! Not to mention he had never been turned on by a guy before. Well. Until now. But nope, Dean was not into dudes.

Sighing, he got up, poured himself a large whisky and downed it. Head still spinning, and cock still demanding some attention, Dean went into the grubby bathroom, turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. While he waited, half naked in the cold motel bathroom, he gripped hold of the sink, and stared into the mirror.

"Well... fuck." Dean muttered whilst burying his face in his hands and turning to climb into the shower, but not before allowing himself to smear the newly formed condensation on the mirror, especially to irritate Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sam returns home steaming drunk, Deans hangover cure leads them to a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of first ever fic, grateful for the Kudos and reads and stuff! :)  
> nothing particularly smutty in this chapter, but there will be next chapter!  
> if you have any ideas- comment!:)  
> x

Dean woke up from his dreamless, whisky induced sleep at about half five in the morning. Normally he would sleep until late morning, but he had heard a few loud thuds and a considerable amount of muffled cussing coming outside the door, causing him to wake. With blurred eyes and slightly unstable movements, he made his way to the door, unlocking it and peering out into the corridor to see what the commotion was about. The answer was slumped against the wall, with various motel key cards scattered around them on the floor. The person looked up to see Dean, with a drunken smile plastered on his face.

"You 'kay there Sammy?" Dean chuckled, because Sam never got this hammered. So much for thinking he was with a chick.

Sam shook his head, mouthing some unintelligible words and sliding his head further down the wall.

"The floor is moving... and I think I left my shoes in the bar..." Sam sounded near tears, so Dean decided he should hurry up and drag his drunken ass inside, before he started up the sobbing.

"Okay, okay, c'mon Sam, get up, and come inside"

Sam looked at Dean like he had grown an extra head. "If I stand up, I will fall off the ground!" he cried, and proceeded to crawl across the grubby carpet and into their room. He sat on the floor near the beds, and quickly decided they were too unstable to support him. "I am very... tall, Dean." He sighed.

Dean wasn't used to looking after a drunk Sam, as it had only happened about three times since their Dad had died.  So when Sam curled up to sleep on the floor, Dean placed a blanket over him, a bucket near his head and returned to his bed.

Dean drifted back off to sleep after a while of listening to Sam mumbling and groaning on the floor, but the whisky was well out of his system, no longer clouding his mind, he began to dream. He dreamt about the chick he had brought back to their last motel about a week earlier, when Sam went home with her roommate, except now she had fierce blue eyes. Until the sun came up, he relived the feel of her hot mouth on him, and how they both moved together under the covers, fast, sweaty and loud.

* * *

 

The sun was streaming into the room through the gap in the curtains, and Dean was overly hot and tangled in his sheets. He could hear miserable groans coming from the small bathroom, and guessed that Sam was feeling the effects of the previous night. After turning over to check the time, Dean became aware of the uncomfortable boner that had, most likely, been caused by his vivid dreams. He groaned, pulled his arm over his face, and proceeded to hurriedly cover himself up with the sheet as Sam emerged, slightly green, from the bathroom. 

Sam was muttering to himself, rubbing his eyes and sipping a glass of water as he sat back down on his bed.  "I feel so..." Sam started, before swallowing hard, jumping up and heading quickly back to the toilet.

"...rough?" Dean finished, chuckling to himself. At that moment, Dean was trying to think of disturbing things to calm down his cock, like the smell of burning bones, or the time he was about to hook up with this hot chick, only to find out she was a guy... but nothing was having any effect. Giving up, he quickly shoved on some jeans, stuffing himself inside and doing some readjustments, changing his shirt and spraying himself, and the room, with deodorant.

"No, I feel great. Perfect" Sam grumbled.

A few minutes later Sam trudged out of the bathroom, a sheen of sweat over his face, but looking less green than before. He was still wearing the same clothes that he had showed up in last night, but that didn't matter.

"C'mon Sammy, let's go grab some coffee-"

"-But Dean--"

"-Trust me Sammy - it'll sort you out. But, seriously, spew in the car and I _will_ end you."

* * *

Sam travelled shotgun, with his window down (" Just a precaution, you know, the upholstery?") and managed to make it to the cafe without tossing his cookies. They both stepped out of the car onto the street. Dean eyed up the selection of cakes and pies in the window, then eagerly pushed open the glass door, making a beeline for the counter. Sam followed him in, still slouching and rubbing his head, and crashed into a comfy chair near the window.

Dean already knew what he would order for his brother, and now he was deciding which type of pie to go for. Just as he was bending to get a closer look at the selection behind the glass, someone spoke up.

"Um, excuse me? Are you ready to order?"

"Oh..uh- yeah" Dean stammered, quickly deciding on the apple pie. He walked back over to the till and began to place the order.

"Two black coffees, a bacon sandwich... and-" Dean looked up, and recognised the guy taking his order. He was the guy from yesterday, with the freaky eyes, and the one he had been picturing... Dean stopped that thought.  "-two slices of...uh-  apple pie..please."

"Coming right up. I'll bring it over to you " The guy said, whilst he handed Dean a number to display on their table. Dean reached for it, and as he took it, their hands met, and their eyes met, and there was a strange feeling in his stomach. He knew had to stop looking and he should probably go sit down. So he took the number and half walked, half ran to the table near the window.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay here is some smut;)  
> please comment if you have any ideas where this story should go!  
> Thank you for Kudos-es and subs :)  
> thanks for even reading haha! x

Dean slumped into the overstuffed armchair, opposite his brother, and tried to calm his rapid breathing. He couldn't wrap his mind around what the blue eyed man was doing to him... Or why he was having any effect on Dean at all.

 

'Dude- where's the coffee?' Sam grumbled at him,

'Uh... He's bringing it- in like two minutes or something...'

Sam grunted in response, shutting his eyes and slouching further down into the chair. Dean followed suit, sinking into his chair and closing his eyes, basking in the warm sun filtering through the window.

 

* * *

 

'FUCK!' The sharp epithet from the kitchen broke through Dean's peace, and he leapt up out of his seat to see what was going on. Sam hadn't moved, so Dean started towards the kitchen on his own. The blue eyed guy was near a coffee machine, hopping around and clutching his leg through his jeans. He saw Dean approach and pointed at the coffee machine by way of explanation.

'You kiss your mom with that mouth?' Dean joked, staring at the machine to try to identify the problem.

'My mother died when I was young...' The man choked out, still grasping his leg.

'Oh, dude, I'm sorry, I didn't know...' Chastised, Dean wrung his hands and stared at his feet.

'S'fine...' He replied.

'Anyway, what the hell happened in here? You go ten rounds with a coffee machine?'

'Something like that- the hot water pipe is broken... shot boiling water all over my... fucking... thigh.' The man groaned.

Dean had dealt with burns before, so he was in familiar territory here.

'Um- I would take the fabric off it, otherwise it'll keep burning and stick to your skin. I'll go get some ice or something- you got a freezer?'

'Okay...' He said, beginning to take off his jeans. 'The bottom part of the fridge, should be an icepack in there, my brother is incredibly clumsy... so we tend to keep one nearby...' He babbled.

 

Before the dude got naked, Dean turned to the fridge, and rooted around until he found the small blue ice pack. He turned around to the man on the floor, and knelt down next to him. 'This'll feel... terrible... for a bit, but it, um... stops... the burning...' Dean stuttered, not able to focus on his words when there was a half naked guy right there.

'Can you put it on? I don't think I'll be able to keep it on myself...' He said.

Dean felt hot all over, and moved the icepack to above the bright red spot on his leg, placing it on gently. 'I'm Dean, by the way...' he said as an introduction.

'Castiel...' the other man said, raising those eyes to meet Dean's, blushing slightly.

'Uh, hey Castiel...' Dean muttered, clearing his throat and looking down at the floor.

Dean was still holding the icepack to Castiel's leg, and the two men were in very close proximity. The smell of coffee and aftershave was filling the room, and being so near to someone was beginning to have certain... effects... on Dean. The tension in the room was high, and the temperature seemed to be raising significantly. The thoughts that filled Dean's mind once before began filtering through his composure, and looking at Castiel's blue eyes again made him picture... that dream.

 

He could feel himself growing hard through his jeans, and his face flushed instantly. Castiel was breathing hard, staring at Dean with hooded eyes, and began to shift around, trying to cover himself up. That was when Dean noticed Castiel's tented underwear, mirroring his own.

Castiel brushed the icepack off his leg, stood up and headed towards the door. Dean sat upright, and watched him lock the kitchen door. Castiel returned to the floor near Dean, looking directly at the bulge in his pants, and blushing again.

'Normally, I wouldn't even entertain this thought. But I can't seem to shake... images... of you from my mind...' Castiel said, echoing Dean's thoughts.

'What thoughts?' Dean breathed. He was panting hard. This whole situation felt so alien to him, but something in his brain wasn't thinking straight. Come on, they were crammed together in a café kitchen, both with hard ons, practically eye fucking each other. Castiel was a dude, for fucks' sake!

'So many Dean. All the time - in the shower, in bed, and right now. I know we just met, but I can see you want this...' Castiel had moved so he was straddling Dean, and was whispering seductively in his ear. '...and I do too, Dean.'

 

Dean groaned, and in a haze of hormones, pushed against Castiel, and pressed their mouths together, roughly kissing him. He tugged on Castiel's hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Castiel moaned in response, moved so he was laid back on the cold floor tiles, and pulled Dean on top of him. They continued kissing, each being driven wild, because in this position they could feel how hard they both were, cocks grinding together through the layers of fabric.

Still maintaining contact, Dean trailed his hand underneath the fabric of Castiel's shirt, feeling the contours of his stomach and hip bones. When Castiel moaned and writhed at his touch, Dean pushed his fingers below the waistband of Castiel's boxers, rubbing in circles, then gently wrapped his fingers around Cas' cock. The mental use of the nickname didn't even register with Dean, all he knew was that it took far too long for his sex-muddled brain to keep repeating his whole name.

Cas jerked his hips forward, thrusting into Dean's palm, causing Dean to begin moving his hand firmly, up and down this strangers dick. Freeing Cas' erection from his boxers, Dean kept working his hand quickly, watching the expression on Castiel's face change from lust to pure carnal need. His eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed and cheeks flushed, Dean could not deny that this man, coming apart at his hands, was hot.

'Do you know how fucking hot you look right now Cas? While I toss you off, less than ten meters from a room filled with people? So fucking hot.' Dean breathed into Castiel's ear.

Castiel moaned loudly, not attempting to muffle the noise at all. His hips began thrusting rapidly into Dean's hot hand, and too soon he was coming, releasing his load over Dean's fist and the floor. He panted, recovered somewhat, then flipped Dean over so he was on top.

'No time for niceties, it's your turn now' Cas growled, in a low, seductive voice.

Dean didn't respond, only releasing a strained groan when Castiel unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his boner, which was now aching considerably.

 

Expecting a quick hand-job like he had just given, Dean shut his eyes and readied himself. He wanted to make this last, God only knows if it'll happen again. This resolve was thrown out of the window when Castiel began running his hands across Dean's sculpted abdomen, tracing his thighs and working the base of his cock.

Then he felt a mouth wrap around the head of his dick. His eyes shot open, to see Cas gazing up at him with those piercing blue eyes, mouth covering nearly half his cock, and nearly lost it there and then. He composed himself, still watching, and Castiel swallowed even more of Dean's length.

'Holy... shit' Dean choked out, as he felt the head of his dick touch the back of Castiel's throat. He sure did know his way around a cock... As Cas kept swallowing Dean's erection, Dean could feel himself building, and the pressure in his balls increasing.

'Cas... I'm gonna...' He groaned, not able to finish his sentence.

Castiel looked up at him, clearly understanding, moved his mouth further down Dean's length and working his balls with his hand. Soon after, Dean lost it, shooting his load into Castiel's mouth, covering his mouth with his arm and moaning loudly into it. Cas swallowed around his dick, and only when he felt Dean's cock begin to soften and the aftershocks subside, he pulled off.

They lay on the cold, sticky floor for a few minutes, before Castiel stood up.

 

'That was... great, Dean. I should probably clean myself, get dressed, clean up in here and check on the customers, before my brother gets back...' he muttered.

'Yeah, that might be an idea' Dean chuckled, pulling on his trousers and straightening his shirt. Speaking of brothers, Dean had left his incredibly hungover brother high and dry out there for - Dean checked his watch - twenty minutes. Well hell.

 

Smirking, Dean turned to Castiel, planted a swift kiss on his lips, and took a step back. He ruffled his hair up to dispel his sex hair, and looked at Cas.

'Any chance of those coffees?' He joked, laughing at Castiel's expression, as he stood half naked, dishevelled and beautiful in the centre of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a smutty chapter, pretty poor to be honest hehe!   
> really appreciate all kudos and subscribing!  
> if you have any suggestions please comment! :)   
> x

Dean turned towards the kitchen door.

'Sure, I'll bring them straight out, just let me get dressed again..' Castiel said with a smirk.

'Jeez Cas, not exactly appropriate to be naked at work is it?!' Dean replied, pleased with his little joke.

'Shut it and get back out there...' Cas laughed.

Pushing out from the kitchen, Dean started towards the table that he and Sam had claimed earlier. As Dean weaved between the other tables, he felt multiple sets of eyes burning into him. He kept his eyes down, flushing crimson with the realisation of what he had just done, and what these people might have heard. He raised his gaze, and saw Sam staring up at him, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows raised.

'Dude, shut your mouth.' Dean muttered.

'Hey! Didn't even say anything... I'm not as vocal as _some_ people.'

Of course Sammy couldn't resist. Dean wondered if Sam knew he had just been with a guy, or whether he had just heard the noises and assumed the chef was a chick or something.

'Dean... what the hell was that? C'mon, I've heard you in the shower, so I'm not gonna pretend I don't know what you were up to in there but... ugh'

'Sammy, just leave it please... please.' Dean begged. He felt extremely self conscious, as all around the room people were staring and whispering.

'You know I'm just teasing... Was she hot?' Sam said with an exaggerated wink.

Dean groaned, feeling marginally relieved, and hid his face in his hands. 'Aren't you too hung-over to be winding me up right now? Besides, what even happened to you?'

'Feeling a bit better now... To tell you the truth, I don't really... remember much. Claire took me to a bar, and it was basically downhill from there...' Sam replied, brow creasing as he recalled the night before. 'Banged her in a toilet stall though. That I do remember.' Sam closed his eyes, grinned and let out a low whistle.

'Nice.' Dean saw Castiel coming out of the kitchen, dressed and smartened up, carrying their order on a tray. 'Coffee's here Sam.'

Sam sat upright, and locked his eyes on the blushing waiter. As Castiel placed the tray onto the table, he subtly dropped a piece of paper into Dean's lap. Dean slid it deftly into his pants pocket.

'Enjoy. I'll be... um... cleaning the kitchen... if you need anything.'

'Cheers' Sam said, grabbing the nearest coffee and sipping quickly.

'Yeah, thanks Cas...' Dean breathed, staring straight into Castiel's blue eyes.

Castiel nodded, tucked the tray under his arm and retreated to the kitchen, limping somewhat on his burned leg. Seeing this, Dean snorted quietly into his coffee.

'How'd you know that dudes name?' Sam asked, shooting a suspicious look at his brother.

Dean froze. 'Uh... name tag... Anyway, who the fuck is Claire?' Employing his distraction techniques, Dean turned the conversation back to Sam.

'Receptionist...' Sam gargled through a mouthful of coffee.

'Ah... hope you two were safe Sammy...' Dean teased.

'Shut your mouth Dean.'

In the slightly uneasy quiet that followed, Sam began devouring his bacon sandwich. People had stopped staring at Dean, so whilst Sam was distracted, he took the piece of paper, now crumpled, from his pocket and looked and the scrawled writing on it. A mobile phone number, and a promise that the next time would be less... public. Dean didn't know how to feel about the idea of seeing Castiel again, let alone encouraging a repeat of what just happened.

A few mouthfuls into his pie, Dean began to feel queasy. His hand was shaking, and the room was spinning as he held onto his spoon. What the fuck had he just done? Fair enough if he had a quickie with a chick somewhere, because that was nothing new to him, but all Dean could think about now was how ashamed John would be.

 

* * *

 

_Dean was eighteen, two semesters into his longest stint at a high school. John had come home early from a hunt, only to find Dean and another football player in a compromising position on the couch. The other guy had his hand crammed into Dean's pants, and Dean was so close to shooting his load, his face was screwed up with the tension and he was moaning loudly. John had completely lost it at the football player. The guy left the house with a split lip and a stream of threats and profanities ringing in his ears. Dean got off less easily. Having a homophobic father hadn't affected him too much in the past, but all that had changed now. Punch after punch, John yelled that he would 'knock the gay' out of his eldest son, spitting and mocking him. Dean took each and every blow without saying a word. Once Dean was spawled, unconscious, across the kitchen floor, John grabbed his coat and left. So when Sam came home the next morning from a friend's house, Dean was battered, bruised and a complete wreck, but he never told Sam what had happened._

* * *

But John was dead now. The only person he had to worry about was Sammy. Dean knew that his brother had a number of gay friends at college, so he wasn't too worried about telling Sam sometime. But not now. All the heavy thoughts buzzing around in Dean's head were beginning to overwhelm him, so he focused on his coffee and pie, and made light small talk with his brother.

Once they finished their food, the brothers gathered their things and stood back up. Hoping to save Castiel the effort, Dean gathered up their cups and plates, and placed them on the counter. Castiel was emerging from the kitchen, still hobbling considerably, and saw the gesture.

'Thanks Dean. See you around I guess...' Castiel said, hope evident in his voice.

'Bye Cas.' Dean muttered, blushing, before Sam appeared next to him.

'Good to go?' Sam asked.

Dean responded by smiling, and heading out of the door.

* * *

 

Later that night, when Sam was spread across his bed and snoring softly, the piece of paper made its way out of Dean's pocket and into his hand once more. Dean had been staring at the numbers for the past twenty minutes, and he had finally gathered the courage to input them into his phone. Carefully, ensuring he typed every number correctly, Dean created a new contact. Cas. He had deliberated whether or not to change the name of the contact, but decided against it, mainly because nobody ever saw Dean's phone.

Dean sent a simple text to give Castiel his number:

**'Hey castiel- its dean from earlier... thought id let you have my number too. Night.'**

There was no reply after a few minutes, so Dean returned the phone to the bedside table, turned off the small light, and shut his eyes. As he lay there, his mind began to swirl with unpleasant thoughts of John, and the guilt began to overwhelm him once more.

Dean mentally shook himself. What he had done with Castiel didn't feel wrong... Granted, it wasn't the best of ideas, but it had felt... good. There was no awkwardness, no embarrassment, and even though it only happened because Cas got hurt, it felt... good. Maybe, Dean thought, just maybe, this 'thing' he has with Cas isn't wrong. Maybe. Dean faded into a heavy sleep, mulling over the situation, and after his brief epiphany, he slept better than he had in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've been bad and not updated for donkeys years... My apologies!   
> Here is another (admittedly sh**) chapter! Hahah :)  
> As always, kudos, comments and subscriptions are great and mean a lot!  
> x

Dean sat up groggily in his bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around the room to see what had woken him up. The room was dark, and Sam slept peacefully in the adjacent bed. He heard a repeated buzzing coming from his phone on the nightstand, and felt around to locate it. Grabbing the phone, Dean unlocked it to see why it was going off so often. Looking at the screen, he saw that he had twelve new messages. Twelve. He began to panic, wondering if something was wrong. Opening up the messages brought relief, but a new kind of worry rested in his stomach. Twelve messages from Castiel -he glanced at the time- at four in the morning. Groaning inwardly, Dean crashed back into his pillows and began to read the messages.

_Dean! Thanks for your message! And thanks for helping with my leg... And after- Not stopped thinking about it ;-) C_

_Do you fancy ringing me? I'm bored ;-) C_

_Deaaan, could really use a 'hand' right now! ;-) C_

And the latest, at four seventeen AM:

_Dean- I'm still awake and super bored- if you get this ring me ;-) C_

 

Dean sighed, smirked, and then began to text a reply-

**'Sorry dude, just woke up. Can't really ring now, my brother Sammy is sleeping in the same room... ;-) D x'**

 

Closing his eyes, Dean soon began imagining his and Castiel's encounter, and the fact Cas was thinking about him at that moment. Then his phone rang, stopping that train of thought, but not before blood had already surged towards his dick. Dean rolled his eyes, readjusted himself and then answered the phone.

'Cas? I told you Sammy is sleeping!' Dean whispered gruffly, throat rasping from sleep. 'We really can't do this right now dude.'

'Well we'll just have to keep it down then won't we Dean? Though, judging from past experience, neither of us are too great at that.' Castiel replied.

'C'mon Cas, let's do this tomorrow...' Dean half-heartedly begged. 'Sam'll be out most of the day studying or whatever, so we can be as loud as we want...' Dean was beginning to get hard in anticipation - he could see where Cas was taking this conversation.

'But I'm so hard and hot right now Dean...' Castiel whined. 'Been thinking about it... All night... I'm touching myself right now...' He said, voice higher pitched than before.

Dean swallowed hard, and breathed deeply. 'Oh... God... Where? What are you doing?'

Hearing Cas talk like that to him had hardened Dean's cock further, and Dean pushed his hands below the waistband of his boxers. After a sideways glance over to Sam, to check he was still sleeping, Dean firmly wrapped his hand around his erection.

'Chest... My cock. It's so hard for you right now dean.' Castiel muttered down the phone. 'So hard. Jacking my dick, thinking about you...'

At this, Dean began to move his hand over his length, gripping just tight enough, increasing gradually in pace. 

'Ugh...' Dean grunted, as he thrust into his palm. 'Cas that is so hot... I'm stroking my dick for you right now... Want you to do it...' He managed to choke out.

'Wanna know what I would do to you?' Cas said. 'Want me to whisper it down the phone into your ear while I toss myself off?'

Dean keened, his voice growing progressively louder. 'God Cas yes... Tell me... Please...'

'Okay... I'd start by kissing you hard... Slowly work my way down your throat, chest, stomach, skim over your thighs and kiss them too... Kiss your nipple, suck and nip at it until it's as hard as your dick... Put my hand down the front of your pants and boxers, wrap my warm palm around your throbbing cock...' As Cas spoke, Dean could hear he was gasping and breathing heavily between words.

'Oh god Cas.' Dean began to moan loudly, rolling his hips, before biting his lip to stop himself. 'How are you so good.. At this..?'

Cas chuckled breathlessly. 'Creative writing classes... Not the point - shut your eyes and shut your mouth too... I would start working your cock, holding you tighter, and pulling you closer to me... Sucking on your neck, leaving hickeys along your collarbones...' Castiel stopped, panting.

'Ungh... Cas... So close already...' Dean whimpered. He was stroking his dick faster and harder now, losing his rhythm but so close to climaxing.

'Don't come yet, it gets better...' Cas replied, voice regaining composure.

'O...kay...' Dean whispered in response, slowing his rapid movements and relaxing his tense muscles.

'I'd put your cock into my mouth, like earlier... Did it feel good earlier? When I took you in my mouth and swallowed you down, taking every drop? Tell me how it felt Dean... Talk to me...' Castiel sighed on the other end of the phone.

Dean shuddered. 'Yes... Felt so good, so hot and... Ugh... Wet and so hard to resist fucking your mouth... God Cas, I can't...' Dean was quickly pumping his hand across his length, feeling the tension building as he pictures Castiel giving him head once more.

'Mmm... Wanted you to fuck me Dean... So bad... Oh fuck.' Castiel was moaning loudly, and Dean revelled in the sounds of the blue eyed man, coming loudly, and he scrunched his eyes shut and jerked into his palm a few more times. Cas groaned loudly one last time, and that sent Dean over the edge.

'Cas..!' Dean came with Castiel's name on his lips, spilling over his palm and chest and sheets.

Both men lay panting until their orgasms subsided, and then Castiel spoke up, sounding relaxed, but awkward.

'So that was... Great... But I should probably let you get back to sleep, seeing as I woke you up and all... Sorr-'

'-Dont apologise.' Dean interrupted. 'I enjoyed that just as much as you did... But I am tired now though, I should probably get some shut eye before Sammy wakes me up...' Dean mumbled in a hushed voice.

'Okay. Speak later sometime? It's okay if you don't want to but I really enjoyed-' Cas stopped abruptly. 'I'm rambling... Um... Thanks, and bye Dean.'

'See ya Cas...' The line went dead, and Dean returned his phone the night stand. He knew he should clean himself up, wipe the sheets and change his t-shirt, but he decided against it. His muscles were too relaxed, and he drifted off back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

'What the fuck man?'

Dean opened his eyes to see his brother standing next to his bed, looking considerably pissed off, pulling the bitchface of the century.

'What did I do?' Dean croaked awkwardly, with a uneasy feeling resting in the pit of his stomach.

'Where do I start?! Well, first you keep me up half the night phonefucking someone... _When I was in the room_?! Not cool, and then you don't even clean up after yourself? Look at the fucking state of your bed, man.' Sam fumed. 'I don't care what, or who, you do in your spare time but I sure as Hell do not want to know about it...'

Dean flushed scarlet. 'I'm sorry dude, I, uh... Thought you were sleeping... And then I was tired... But I'll sort it now, just lemme get changed...' Dean hated how pissy Sam could get when it came to cleanliness, but this time it was reasonable, so Dean kept quiet.

Sam went through to the tiny kitchen area to give his brother room to change, and Dean leapt up and began searching around his bags for something to wear. He mentally scolded himself- The majority of rooms they had stayed in before had pretty thin walls, so consequently, Sam had heard him with various girls... But this was different.

Once dressed, he slipped his phone into his pocket, looked over at his bed and blushed again. Quickly, he stripped the semen-covered sheets off the bed, bundled them up and then headed out to the laundry room. Walking past so many different rooms, and windows, was bad enough on a normal day, but considering what Dean was carrying, today the trek was worse. He hurried, embarrassed, through the motel, avoiding eye contact, then slamming the laundry room door shut behind him. Quickly, he shoved his sheets into the washing machine, put in some money, and waited for the wash to start.

Whilst waiting, Dean pulled out his phone and composed a text to Cas.

**In big trouble - guess who was awake last night? D X**

He sent it, then slid the phone back into his pocket. Feeling slightly awkward, Dean left the warm room and went back up to their room, hesitating outside the door.

Drawing in a deep breath, readying himself to face his brother again, Dean opened the door and walked inside.

A note sat, propped up by a small box, in the centre of the table. Dean unfolded the paper, to see a scribbled note from Sam.

_'ESCAPED TO LIBRARY - BACK AROUND FIVE, DONT CARE WHAT YOU DO WHEN IM NOT THERE, JUST CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF._

_SAM_

_P.S BE SAFE ;-)_ '

Cringing, Dean let the note drop back onto the table with a groan, embarrassed at his brothers audacity. Looking back to the table, Dean saw what Sam had left for him. Condoms. 'For fuck's sake Sam.' Dean sighed to himself, shaking his head and launching the box across the room and onto Sam's bed.

Laying back down on his own bed, Dean chuckled to himself. Surely it was his job to make sure his little brother stayed safe, not the other way round? Trust Sammy to make things even more weird.

His phone buzzed from his pocket, sending vibrations up his thigh. Dean slid the phone out of his pocket, and flipped it open, squinting at the screen.

_Ooh, awkward... Naughty Dean ;-) what are you doing today? C x_

Dean laughed to himself... Awkward indeed.

**IKR tell me about it... Nothing really, home alone at this skeevy motel ;-) - Sam is out for the day. D X**

* * *

 

Dean had been sprawled over his bare mattress, rifling through John's journal and playing his tapes, for most of the morning. It had just gone midday, so Dean pushed himself up and went over to the fridge to see what leftovers Sam hadn't eaten. As he was rummaging around, someone knocked on the door. Dean quickly went over and opened the door, expecting Sam or room service. It was neither.

'Hey Dean...'

Dean dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling considerably self conscious. 'Uh... Hey, Cas... What're you doing here? How did you know where we were staying?' He asked.

'Well, considering there are limited choices for motels in here, I figured I would guess. It helped that only one of them is... 'skeevy'... as you put it. When I saw the car outside, and heard your delightful...' Cas chuckled to himself '... singing coming from this room, I just knew. So here I am... You said you were home alone, so I thought it'd be okay for me to pop by... but I can leave if you want me to...'

'Shut up, Cas... I guess I'm glad you're here...' Dean muttered, resting his gaze on Castiel's chest. 'Come in.'

Castiel obliged, following Dean inside the room, flinching slightly as the door slammed behind them. He looked around, and seeing piles of tapes on one of the beds, went to look at them.

'You know, tapes went out of fashion years ago Dean. Why do you still have them?' Cas asked, eager to learn more about Dean.

'I just don't see the point changing my music when these work perfectly well... and there is no way in hell I would pimp out Baby's sound system.' Dean replied, feeling defensive.

'Baby?'

'Oh, uh... the car.' Dean was standing awkwardly near Sam's bed, where Castiel had situated himself. After a mental pep-talk, and a warning to himself of 'Don't be a wimp, Winchester', Dean sat down beside Cas on the bed.


End file.
